Metropolis Heroes Fallen
by Gear001
Summary: A story that happens parallel to the story Heroes Rising from Taszormon's Partner.
1. Heroes In Transit

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Hi there!, sorry for the lack of updates! I've been working on an acctual novel for once, so I havent been working on fics! Well, no one acctually read them anyway. Ah well. On a different note, a bit about this fic. I am unofficially semi-adopting the story "Metropolis Heroes Rising" from Tazormon's Partner. The guy/girl hasnt written me back, so I'm going to relable it as Metropolis Heroes Fallen and tell it from the perspective of a new character Mica Lonnell Echo. The story will cross back and forth with many subplots. Mica's history, the Tima-Kenichi relationship, the mysterious stranger trying to kill the two, and the conflict with Atlas. So here is chapter one.

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He watched them. Closely. The young couple made their way from Namid's hut. He trailed them with his eyes. Closely. The boy with the green hair carrying the brown bags and a small box of junk, the girl with the blond hair carrying more parts and cases full of noodles, just strolling along without the knowledge they were being watched. Mica lowered his binoculars and took a heavy breath. His spot on the ceiling was supreme for scoping out the underground market. And he found just the two people he was looking for. The kids had tried to blend in, he noticed, and did a pretty good job too. Only he noticed them, but for the simple reason he was looking for them specifically. They blended in like most of the other shady characters in the mass of people. That, though, was their one mistake.

He knew all about the incident at the ziggurat. How that girl, due to the corrupted minds of Duke Red and Rock, had destroyed Metropolis. He griped the binoculars tighter with his lowered right hand, almost breaking the tubular viewing port. The explosion had ruined his life. It had killed his entire family in the Upper Zone. And the only reason he survived was because of some goddamn deus ex machina. _I'll have to thank that little bastard for the present he left._ He thought to himself, looking at his right arm.

"Echo, Echo, are you their Echo?"

Mica looked at the radio in his belt. He holstered the binoculars and picked up the small device, holding it to his ear.

"Mica here, what do you need boss?" Mica responded to the annoying call.

"Have you found the two yet?" Asked the radio voice.

"Not yet" Echo lied.

"Well find them soon. I don't have much time." The voice said, clicking into static. Mica shook his head. He dropped ten feet to the rooftop below his perch. He looked around the vast market place and decided to walk in the direction of where the couple had gone. He jumped down from rooftop to rooftop till he was at ground floor. His descent took less than thirty seconds, within that time no one saw him as he got closer to the earth. He landed in an alleyway, out of sight. He supported his back against the wall of the ally and checked his weapons. At his left side was an automatic SMG, clip fed in front of the trigger. Then he checked his other weapon. It was a complex looking 9mm with detachable parts. The parts could be swapped out for longer barrels, larger clips, and even butts. All of these attachments were kept in his back pack, all arranged so he could just reach back and grab a modifier with ease. He checked his clips, noting the thirty rounds in each of the five clips for the SMG and ten rounds in the seven clips for the 9 mil.

He slammed fresh clips into the guns, refreshing their ammo supply. He harnessed the guns to his belt and began to walk. He felt his cape-like cloak float in the wind. His red, spiky hair moved freely in the breeze. He made a slight twitching move, negating the effect of the wind and covering his arms in his cloak. He walked silently, following the two young teenagers. He needed to warn them. Warn them that someone wanted them dead. Tell them to watch their backs. But he had a slight problem. He needed to get out of the market. The only problem is that the guards didn't like his kind. Nor did anyone else, but guards had almost a personal vendetta against him and his fellow bounty hunters. He reached the gates to the market, lost in thought of how to contact the two teens. He was suddenly stopped by a hand. His thought process shut down and he refocused on reality.

"Papers?" The gate guard asked. Mica looked around, noting that there were five guards, all of which seemed rather displeased.

"I wasn't aware that we needed papers to get in now." Mica said, trying to milk sarcasm out of his voice.

"New rule, so let's see 'em!" The guard ordered. Mica just stood there.

"No." The guards smiled, Mica's face turned blank. They wanted a fight and they were going to get one. There was a split-second pause in sound, enough to hear a pin drop. The five guards reached for their side arms, but three of them fell, bullet holes lining their bodies. Mica was a blur, moving too fast for the guards to comprehend. One guard managed to unleash his gun and fire off two rounds. Mica swiftly avoided the projectiles, seemingly vanishing into thin air, only to reappear a few feet away and a few feet closer to the guard. The guard slipped, dropping to one knee. He looked up and aimed as Mica appeared before him. Mica aimed for the man's temple and pulled the trigger. The other guard pulled a jackknife from his boot and ran at Mica, ready to stab. The man shoved the blade forward as Mica dropped his guns and raised his left hand. The knife went into the palm of Mica's hand, imbedding itself only a centimeter into solid steel. Mica quickly balled his hand into a fist, grasping the knife between his middle and ring finger. He twisted his hand, snapping the blade like a twig. He raised his other hand and punched the man square in the nose, crushing the skull. The man collapsed to the ground silently.

Mica pulled the remainder of the knife from his robotic left arm. His robotic right arm plucked the metal shard out with ease. The guards did not know their adversary and that is why they lost. He strode up to the gate, grabbed the rings of metal, and yanked the gate off its track. He strolled through, hoping to locate the two young teens whom needed to be warned.

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So? How was it? I know it was short but i wanted to shorten it for reading pleasure. Hope you enjoy the new story!

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	2. Heroes Die Too

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I'm back! Now the story is going to take a step back and see Mica's motivation in all of this. Enjoy!

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Heroes Die Too

He had followed them successfully. The two were very careful not to be trailed, turning blind corners and closing doors behind them. They were very intelligent, but he was always one step ahead of them. He had access codes to every door on their route, thanks to the convenience of a decoder he had bought at the market. He had navigated the tunnels, easy since he memorized the layout of the city's sewer and street grid. Mica had to give credit to that insane kid. The gifts he was given were very useful. But they still didn't outweigh the things that were taken. He still remembered that day, the day the Ziggurat imploded, the day the old him died.

He had been running a courier shipment, from Level 1 to the Upper City. It was an easy task. He had made what had felt like thousands of deliveries the same way. The only change was the riot. _He had trouble getting through the crowd. He decided to just sit by and watch, not wanting his package harmed and not wanting to be associated with the rioters. He watched as they ran amok, destroying property and anything else that got in their way. They mostly ignored him. A few urged him to join, but he just smiled and waved them off. He saw the tension with his own eyes, but he didn't expect what happened next. The Ziggurat, the building he was sitting across the street from, the building that symbolized the power of Metropolis, imploded. Fire and steel rained on the rioters and him. He just sat there, awe struck by the collapse of a once proud monument. A teenager walked very calmly in front of Mica. Mica instinctively reached out to pull the kid into an embrace, to protect the kid as well as himself. The kid looked down on Mica and smiled. Mica would never forget the devious look in the kid's eyes, the look of insanity. Mica pulled back his arm, but the kid grabbed him by the wrist._

"_Don't worry, your story will continue." The boy said smiling. In a flash of green light and code, a visor appeared over the kid's right eye. The boy pulled Mica to his feet with tremendous strength. In another flash, they were standing on one of the tallest buildings in the city. Mica readjusted himself, looking for the Ziggurat. He found it, frozen in mid-explosion. The towers were shattering, the steel bending, screams of terror frozen in space. He wondered if he was dreaming, if he was on drugs or drunk. But what he was seeing was real. He looked over at the teen, the smile still on the kid's face. He grabbed the kid by the shoulders, holding the boy's jacket tight under his fist. _

"_What have you done?!" Mica asked._

"_I just saved your life." The boy responded. The entire time the boy had been staring at the Ziggurat, watching it burn, but chose to turn and look at Mica. "But you will need more help to fight the evils ahead. Let me help you with that." He stared at Mica, the visor glowing. Mica's arms trembled and went numb. He felt a wave of ice graze over his arms. He looked at his fingers, where the icy feeling had started its movement. He couldn't help but stare at his finger tips, dug in tight with the boy's jacket, as the skin on each one started to shred and disappear. It started to flow down his arms, the skin and even the clothes dissipated. Finally the skin deterioration stopped at his shoulders. He looked over his arms, the muscle of each freely showing. Then the muscle started to disappear, unraveling its own coils and vanishing in the air. This continued, the meat uncoiling, only stopping once again at the shoulders. Without the support of the muscles and the protection of his skin the bones of his arm fell, clattering like wood on the metal surface of the building._

"_What the fuck have you done to me?!?" Mica screamed, the muscles in his shoulders tensing like they were about to throw a fist, a futile effort for the new paraplegic._

"_Wait for it…" The boy said. Mica's anger peaked, and he was about to tackle the kid. Then he felt a new tingling sensation, a warm one this time. The feel originated from his shoulders. There was a green glowing as a wave of heat expanded from his shoulders. He looked down to see steel rods extending from his shoulders. They ended in ball joints. The joints then sprung more metal rods extending out about a seven inches. The rods divided into five finger-like segments. Wires then exploded from his shoulders, wrapping around the rods and encasing them in metallic muscle. The wires formed the exact same patterns as the muscles had been in around his bones. Then a stainless steel exterior encased the wires, finishing Mica's new metal arms. He could only stare at them in wonder. He moved them around, flexing them as though actual human arms. Then he looked up at the boy, who seemed quite impressed with his own handiwork. "Told you, I'm helping you much more than you think. The challenges you're about to face will be monumental, more monumental than that explosion over there." The boy said, pointing to the still frozen collapse of the Ziggurat. _

"_What's going on over there anyway?" Mica asked, still a little mesmerized by the arms._

"_A little girl is having a tantrum." The boy said. "Listen to me very closely! You must protect that same girl and the boy that is her friend. If they die, then what I've set into motion could destroy both our worlds." The boy seemed distant. "Oh, one last thing." The boy said, suddenly energetic. The boy cupped his own hands over Mica's temples. There was a soft green glow and a lukewarm flooding sensation in his brain. "There! You now have photographic memory and a little surprise I put in there for a little more fun." The boy said, stifling his own laughter. But then his eyes fell to the ground, a somber look on his face. "I've just given you some great gifts, but I also have to bring you some bad news. Your wife and your kids won't make it. The explosion will kill and destroy approximately seventy percent of the city."_

"_What?! Then why can't you stop it, mister high and mighty? You have all this power, why can't you just reverse the explosion?" Mica asked, alarmed by the news he was given. He had to save his family._

"_Have you ever heard of a paradox? I can't stop what happens, only do the mission I've been given. Now I must leave. Good luck, Mica." The boy said, stepping backwards, the space around him returning to normal time. A jet of flame passed slowly by the two of them, the boy seemed to fade into it._

"_Wait, who the hell are you?" Mica cried, trying to make sense of all that just happened._

"_The _

"_The Analyst, or your own dimensional twin. Either way, I can't help you anymore." He said, fading into the flames of the explosion._

"_No, come back!" Mica screamed as the same explosion knocked him off the building. As he fell he blacked out, but he still remembered what he had been told. And thanks to The Analyst, he always would._

"This entire protection scheme better pay off." Mica whispered to himself, eying the apartment carefully. If things were going to get worse than they were, he would be ready. He frowned. He disapproved of himself having such an eagerness for things to just finally collapse. He felt like he was praying to a heathen god to destroy what was left of the city. He was angry because he knew there were still people out there, people that, like him, had so much to lose. Well, at least they still did.

Mica had found the bodies. He had searched through the ruins all day, digging into his collapsed apartment building to find his home and his family. A part of him had been hopeful, maybe the kid was wrong it said, perhaps they survived. One way or another, he had to know. And he finally came upon the most horrific sight he had ever seen. There was not much blood, there were no scattered organs. It was just his wife, sitting on the couch, her face blank and emotionless, with a steel support through her swollen belly. The beam had killed her and his unborn child. He had felt his heart strings being ripped out. He had searched the entire apartment, hoping that maybe his twin boys had escaped or hidden. But he had found them both, suffocated to death under the rubble. He had broken down right there, cried his heart and soul out over the bodies of his dead wife and children. Everything after that, even with his photographic memory, was a blur. He recollected removing the bodies from the rubble. Then burying them in a garden outside of town, where they had wanted to be buried. He had vowed from that day on to kill that son of a bitch, to kill The Analyst the next time they met, whether it be Hell, Heaven, or Earth.

Now, though, he was standing outside the house of the very people responsible for the end of Metropolis. He had a chance for revenge. He had gotten close to the children several times. He had hidden in crowds, on rooftops, and in shops. He had never taken his chance and he knew why. They weren't responsible; they had no control over what happened. The Analyst, on the other hand, could've stopped the entire ordeal if he so much as waved a finger. He was the true enemy. Once Mica was sure the kids were safe for a while, he would search for a way to track The Analyst. And a way to kill him. Mica would never rest till that little bastard was dead. Hell, Heaven, or Earth.

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Well another chapter is finished! I hope you liked it! Please review! Oh, and the Analyst is actually me. I actually have a review show for videogames that I'm just now kicking off the ground (currently 8/18/09). Look Me up on Blip(dot)tv ! Search "The Analyst"! TTFN!


	3. Heroes are Quiet

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Yes, longest chapter yet. I suffered all day for you and this is the result. Oh and I got semi-confirmation from Tasormon's Partner. This story will probably run parallel to his/her/it's story. So some things you don't know, just check their story (Metropolis Heroes Rising). Enjoy Chapter 3!

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Heroes are Quiet

He had successfully followed Kenichi and Tima to the complex in which they were living. They were very clever. There hideout seemed to be in a robot-inhabited part of the city. Most of the buildings in the complex were meant for only robots. No one in their right mind would look for two teenagers living in a robot community. Especially after all the hell that happened during the riots, and especially since humans were forbidden by law to stay in the same residence as robots. Mica moved silently through the allies, not wanting to be seen by anyone, human and robot alike. He glided towards the end of the ally he was in and peaked out to the main road, trying to find a way of locating the two. He mentally kicked himself for letting them out of his sight. Now he had to search every building in the complex for the two. A very long and delicate process that could get him killed.

Not many people knew how violent robots could be. They were programmed not to be aggressive, but hacking had become common among the city dwellers. He also had a suspicion about the bots in the complex. They seemed different, almost social. They acted normally, but he noticed key changes in their behavior. They seemed to communicate like humans, turning their heads or sensors towards a passing robot and giving a few clicks or beeps. It was like they had their own robotic language. He was transfixed as they "talked" to one another. It was creepy. He decided that silence was the best method of infiltration, as he did not want one robot alerting the others, or worse, the two teens.

He thought about the duo as he reached into the pack on his back. What was their purpose in this mess of a situation? He knew that they were the ones responsible for the explosion, but how? How did two thirteen-year-olds destroy the Ziggurat and the entire city? What was so special about them? And why was his employer so intent on having them killed? His head filled with thoughts as he pulled out a sleek metal cylinder. He picked up his custom handgun with his right hand and attached the cylinder to the barrel with his right. He looked at the silenced weapon in his hands, or were they claws? Yes, they had four fingers and a thumb, but each phalange was tipped in a claw. He decided to brush away the subject, trying more to focus on the task at hand. He slipped back into the ally, his footsteps unheard.

He faced the wall to his left. He grouped all the fingers on his left hand together and launched it towards the wall. The fingers dug in smoothly, the brick of the wall weak against the metallic force. He proceeded to do the same with his right hand, then again with his left only higher. He continued in a steady beat, scaling the building at a smooth pace. After thirty seconds of climbing, he reached the roof of the building. He scanned the area to make sure that there was nothing or no one that could alert his presence to the bots. After he was sure the coast was clear, he entered the building through the door on the roof. He began to search the apartment, looking for the couple, while trying to avoid any robots along his path. Most were out working that day, so he would have it easy searching for the teens.

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He had memorized the layout of the buildings via a series of maps he found in a storage closet in the second building he had searched. He had been lucky enough to have gone through two buildings that were almost empty. Next building was what had him worried. There was massive robot activity outside the two-story building. To his surprise, there was even human activity, with people quickly going in and out of the residence. It was also the largest of the buildings, not height wise, but square-inch wise. The other buildings had only room for one robot per living space. That meant very small, cramped rooms. This building, however, was originally an apartment, which created a significant problem in the searching category. The apartments were multi-room, so it was more complicate than opening one door to one room. He had to search every hall for the kids. The building also lacked windows, which was also a negative. He would have to do his best to stay hidden under these conditions, and that is much harder to do than most people think.

He started towards the building trying to look as inconspicuous as the other humans in the complex. He stepped briskly towards the ally next to the building. He got by the front steps without incident, jumping into the ally as quickly as possible. He stepped into the narrow passage and took a breath. The first hard part was over. Now the next hard part began. He skillfully scaled the wall onto the building's roof. He managed to reach the top, but when he stepped over the raised wall his foot came into contact with something smooth and metallic. His instincts drew his gun for him and forced him to leap off to the side, away from the object. He turned to face the box-like thing he had landed on. It was a Sentry Bot, a Mark 1 if he was right. It was the oldest version of the crime robots. All it did was screech and whistle when anyone passed a certain perimeter. And Mica had just passed that perimeter. There was a large red and blue light on top of its boxy body which began to light up. Mica reacted instantly. He aimed and fired seven rounds into the thing, silencing it for good. The event happened in a split second. The device gave a high-pitched but quiet hum as it died. Mica looked at it with distain. It had almost cost him his mission. He unloaded the nearly spent clip of his gun, and loaded another, fresher one. He would need to see Darati to get some more bullets. His aching wallet, ammunition was extremely rare and expensive. His day job paychecks barely cove living expenses, let alone ammo. He just shook his head and entered the building.

There were steps leading down to both the first and second floor. Mica decided to check the second floor first, and then progress downward towards the first floor. He entered the second floor hallway quietly; the only light was shed from one of the very scarce windows on the buildings and from two dim bulbs. He took a step forward and felt a force hit his stomach. He stumbled back, holding his gut in pain. He saw something moving, a blurred, tan arm arcing towards his face from his left side. His arms reached out and grabbed the assailants arm. He twisted it, breaking the thin metal of a robot's arm. Mica looked up at the attacker. It was a Sentry Bot Mark 2, designed for riot control and personal guards. Usually they have a device that gives off a shrill buzzing noise, but Mica noticed this one has had it ripped out. He quickly concurred that the bot must have been a leftover from the riots. He reached out and clutched the blocky, tan face of the robot. He was about to crush it when he felt a surge of energy rush down his arm and into the robot. Sparks flew from the Sentry's optical probes as it short circuited. The bot fell to the floor with a clang as he released his grip.

"Well… That's new." Mica said as he lifted his hand/claw to his face. He watched as he twitched his fingers and electricity danced between the appendages. He closed his fist, smiling at the realization of his new power. He looked up from his current position, and down the hall. There were only five doors, one of them open. He settled on checking the open one, just so he didn't have to open any doors himself and possibly get caught. He snuck closer, hearing giggling coming from the room. He looked around the door frame. He saw them, both of them enjoying the evening. It appeared that Tima had gotten some new clothes and was showing them to Kenichi. Mica smiled. They were like his boys, so young and excitable. It looked like they were having fun. He caught himself giggling along with them, but quietly enough to not alarm them to his presence. He felt tears run down his cheeks. They reminded him so much of him and his wife when they first fell in love. He turned around and leaned against the wall outside of the door. He lifted his hand to his face and just stood there crying for what felt like hours.

"Man. I'm getting soft." He said to himself quietly, sniffing off the pain. After what felt like ages (but was actually ten minutes) he regained his composure. He looked back in the door. The two were walking in to the next room, probably where they sleep. He smiled and pushed himself off the door. "Good night." The father in him spoke. He leaned back up against the wall and smiled. They were happy and that was all the reason that he needed to protect them. He felt a tap on his shoulder.

Mica looked over at a man who only wore a white tank top and shorts. He was chubby, but not overweight, and was very clearly upset.

"Were you the one who fried my robot?!" The man asked angrily. Mica froze up, embarrassed and a bit threatened at the same time.

"Oh…. That was your robot? Well…" Mica said, stepping back cautiously.

"Why the hell did you wreck my robot?!?!" The man screamed. Mica rubbed his neck under his cloak. He noticed the other inhabitants of the apartment, human and robot alike, were gathering outside their doors.

"I… You…. It…" Mica sputtered out.

"Are you a cop?! Did you come to arrest us?! Well, this is our home now, you aint getting no one! Get him!" The man screamed.

"Shit." Mica said in monotone. The residents rushed him before he could react. They shoved him towards the window, which happened to look over a sewage river below. He yipped, they pushed, he fell. The flimsy glass shattered and he fell into the sludge.

"Help!" He screamed, before he went under. He grasped at the water, trying to swim to shore. He worried that his cloak would weigh him down. But, to his surprise, it wasn't his cape he needed to worry about. He felt his arms go limp, and sink to the bottom of the shit stream. He struggled, but he couldn't move his arms and inch. He flailed his legs, trying to push himself up, but his arms were too heavy. He was going to drown to death in a river of waste. He felt light headed as the greasy water filled his lungs. He almost passed out, until he felt tubular structures wrap around his waist. He felt himself being hoisted up to the surface as his arms were lifted off the mud. He then breached the surface. His arms reactivated, allowing him to crawl to the concrete street. He held his throat with his right hand and supported himself with the other. He spit out all of the sludge in his lungs and stomach. He then threw up on the ground, purging himself of everything in his digestive tract.

"Thanks, whoever you are. I didn't want to die THAT way." He said speedily. He heard a soft beeping noise as his response. He flipped over to look at his savior, only to realize it was a worker bot. It looked like a metal foot ball attached to a garbage can that had hoses for arms and treads for legs. He laughed to himself. "Now how do I thank a robot?" It replied with a soft beep sound. "Well, put'er there." Mica said, reaching out his wet hand for a shake. The robot, in turn, grabbed his hand and shook.

"You are very welcome, sir."

"Well thank yo- Did you just talk?" Mica asked, stunned by the robot's voice.

"I do not know. I always talk like this." It said.

"Well, then…. What's your name?" Mica asked awkwardly.

"Fifi. At least my friend calls me that."

"Hmmm. Well it's nice to meet you Fifi. Hope we cross paths again." Mica said, releasing its hand.

"Beep boop beep boop boop beep!" Fifi said, estatically.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down!" Mica said. "Now why can't I understand you anymore?" He asked. Then he got an idea. He reached out and touched the robot's shoulder.

"I said I have to go tell my friends about you!" Fifi said. _So thats how it works._ He gave a small grin, and then took into thought what the robot had just said. He recoiled back from the robot, but didn't let go of its shoulder.

"NO! Nonononononono. You can't tell them about me!" Mica said, panic reaching his voice. He didn't know why, but he wanted to keep his involvement a secret.

"Why can't I?"

"Because, well… I can't tell you."

"So how do I explain that I was late seeing them?" Fifi asked. Mica thought quickly. _No harm in warning them_. He thought, shrugging mentally.

"Tell them a stranger stopped you to give them a message." Mica answered.

"What message?" Fifi asked once more.

"That someone is out to get them, but someone else is looking after them." Mica said. He turned around and ran from the stumped robot. He needed to get away before there was a scene. He also needed to figure out how to properly use his new powers.

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Fifi watched as the human sprinted away. He merely shrugged off the mans unusual behavior and rolled back towards Kenichi and Tima's appartment. He was passing through one of the many allies when another stranger jumped out infront of him.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you deliver that message." The man said. There was a blinding flash and Fifi's memories of the past few minutes were erased.

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Yay sentimental stuff! And stuff that Happened in Heroes rising! And Mica's fatal weakness! And a new antagonist! I wonder who it is? How exciting! I hope you all enjoyed it! Gear001 Out!


	4. Heroes ask Questions

Yep, Chapter 4 and my longest chapter of anything Ive written to date (I might have to check on that). But a few mentions. A: The character of Namid is owned by Tazormon's Partner. Gran could techincally be TP's, She wasn't really expanded upon, so I claim her as one of my own (yay for thievery!). Enjoy the chapter! (PS: I hope I got Namid's accent right. I designed his voice after Hagrid's from HP).

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Heroes ask Questions

Mica felt sick. He walked along the street, trying to keep the fuzzy images of the town in focus. He looked at signs, landmarks, people, buildings, but he could not tell where he was. His head was burning, his neck stinging, and his lungs struggling. His entire body was engulfed in flames.

_Water, must've been the water._ He thought to himself. _Something in the goddamn water probably got to me. I need medicine, clean water, hell just shelter will do!_ He screamed mentally. He braced his right hand against a nearby wall but still did not break his pace. He felt cool brick under his hand, rocky as gravel under his grasp. That's the one thing that really surprised him about the metal arms; he could still feel. It was as if his arms were sensitive enough to feel sand, but strong enough to resist the pain of bullets. A pain spiked in his stomach. His left hand that had been holding his forehead dropped immediately to his gut, griping it in reactionary self-preservation. His headache had a hollow feel to it, like a kid playing racquet ball in his head. His vision blurred even more, the outlines of the people and buildings becoming skewed. _Need, to find, Gran. _He panicked silently. He stumbled his way towards the market, his hope to find help resting in the small community. Through the undistinguished shapes a light filtered down from the holes in the surface level. It was dawn. A soft pink glow penetrated his sight, blinding him temporarily.

He closed his eyes to readjust his retinas to the light. As his lids fell against each other, he felt the presence of someone that was not supposed to be there. _Analyst?_ He thought. He felt the world slow down, the film of his life coming to a near stop, but not yet halted.

_Watch. Your. Back. Dumbass._

Mica opened his eyes, reality becoming faster and faster. He was at the gates to the Market. There was a shrill buzzing noise. And there were angry guards in front of him. He looked into the reflection of one of his still damp arms. There were guards behind him too. All of them were armed. He was outgunned and surrounded. He felt the shock sink in, the realization that he had made a terrible mistake. And that he would have to run from. He heard screaming from the guards, along the lines of 'get him' and 'kill him'. His back legs tensed. He leapt from his position, flailing his arms towards the wall closest to him. He scrambled up the wall; bullets flew past him, their buzzing noise drowning out all thought. He reached the top of the building. He hopped the guard rail and vanished from his enemy pursuers.

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He stumbled through the market, his search for Gran's hut progressing slowly. None of the passer bys bothered with him, all of them just blowing him off as another nuisance. The sick were a common site in the new Metropolis. They were on every street corner, in every shelter, on every rooftop. They were everywhere. At first the people of the city started to take pity on the sick, but the healthy soon became stubborn and greedy, saving their own supplies for themselves. It was times like now that made Mica really look at himself. He was one of the people who normally ignored the sick and dying, just passing them off as another obstacle on his way to work, but now he questioned his own moral standings. He was one of them now, sick and defenseless. _Well not defenseless_, he thought to himself as he looked at his holstered weapons. He frowned ever so slightly. Even though having guns on him made him feel safe, he knew better. The little swim he had just taken had probably doused his ammo. Wet bullets, no fire, no fire, no shots, no shots, no hope. He ran the little jingle in his head about a dozen times. It was a saying his weapon instructor had taught him so many years ago. It was there to remind him he was not invincible, that even the best could be killed. In its context, it only applied to wet ammo, but it could be applied to many different situations. It meant that even under the best conditions, a little problem could make a big difference. He limped his way down the street, the jingle in his head and his hand on his gut.

His daze made it hard to distinguish the tents and buildings from one another, but he had a familiarity with the area. He felt his way to the door of a small shop, a tent that sold decorative clothing and items of that caliber. He glanced in and made sure there was no one in the store. He ducked inside, trying to look as unquestionable as possible, a very hard task for a man dressed in a dark green cape-like cloak. He stumbled up to the front desk to be met by an old woman. Her name was Gretchen, but everyone who knew her called her Gran. She was an elderly coot who had a fine eye for clothing. She was over sixty years old and had her gray-white hair up in a bun. She had a nose that reminded him of the late Duke Red.

"What happened now, Mica?" She asked as she helped support himself. She was old, but she had an amazing intelligence and surprising strength.

"I was knocked in to a sewer stream." He struggled out. "My arms weighed me down too much, and I couldn't get out. Must've swallowed some kind of disease while down there. A passing robot saw me fall in and helped me out." He gasped out, his throat tightening.

"You poor thing! Come to the back, I'll fix you up with something to help!" She said, whisking him off to the back rooms of the tent. She brought him to a bedroom but he was too blurry to distinguish which one. She shoved him in to the room then redirected him to a bathroom connected to the bedroom. He pushed him in. "Now clean up. I'll wash your clothes and make you some of my famous soup!" She said in a motherly voice. "Just throw your garments out the door when you start." She yelled a she left the room. He just stood there for a moment, his thoughts clouded by the headache. He slowly unclasped his cloak and let it slide to the floor. He took off his cut-sleeved shirt and removed his pants. He turned on the water thanks to the convenience of a crude shower that had been installed in the tent. He threw his clothes out the door and stepped into the running water. He felt the rush of the warm water flow over him. The stink of his body and of the sewage melted off him as the warmth cleared his head.

His thoughts were finally freed of the cloud that had tortured him all day. He wondered about the guards, wondering if they were still searching for him. He wondered about Kenichi and Tima and what their connection to this situation was. He wondered about the Analyst and what role he played in all of this. He looked at his arms, still in wonder of their elegance. The Analyst really knew how to create a fake arm. He looked at the wires that fused seamlessly into his body. The Analyst certainly did know… Mica felt a chill run down his back. His eyes opened, the only blur caused by the cascade of water.

"I know you're there." Mica said, turning of the water and wrapping a towel around his waist. He stepped out of the crude water dish and onto the soft, carpeted floor. The carpet was one of the luxuries that came with the tent. He glanced around the small room and noticed a wave like distortion envelope it. There was a green glow that sharpened into several crack-like lines that appeared in thin air. The air itself became like glass in the area encased by the beams. The pieces separated by the cracks fell to the floor and shattered, pieces of Mica's reality braking before him. He looked up to see another plane of existence, which seemed to be located in a giant city. He saw a figure in the new hole. It walked closer and hopped through the pathway. A young man came into focus. He had curly red hair and a visor over his right eye. The Analyst.

"I see my gifts have helped you. Enjoying your 'upgrade'?" The boy said with a pleased tone in his voice. Mica had only known the youth for no longer than five minutes, but he had already established the boy was up to no good. Then he noticed something different about the kid. He looked fatigued and worn, and maybe a tad older.

"Yeah, just fine." Mica said spitefully. He ran at the boy, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him against the wall. The boy squirmed, the electronic arms grasping too tightly around his neck. "I want some answers. Who the hell are you and what are you doing, fucking with my reality?" Mica screamed. The boy just looked at him in shock.

"Put me down!" The Analyst screamed.

"Not until I get some answers!" Mica responded.

"You don't understand what is at stake! Let me go, or your entire world could be destroyed!" The Analyst screamed back.

"Then make me understand!" Mica yelled.

"I said let me go!" The Analyst choked out. He raised his hands and let lose a surge of lightning. Mica's arms overloaded and collapsed, his entire body froze in paralysis. The Analyst freed himself and dropped to the floor. He put his arm to the back wall, causing the same green cracks to appear as they had earlier. The pieces fell, opening another door. With his free hand he rubbed his neck.

"Be patient. It will help my friend." The Analyst said before slipping in to the spiky portal. The portal itself sealed itself right back up. Mica fell to his knees. His body was in a state of shock, numb and senseless. He sat there, unable to think or move. The lights of the tent slowly dimmed and his body became heavy. Mica fell to the ground, his thoughts halted and his mind at rest.

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The Analyst stared at the figure through the portal. He gave a sigh, and put his hand over the view port. He quickly swiped his hand right against the mystical screen. The image he saw sped up, the events of the Metropolitan universe moving at an ungodly pace to fulfill his wishes. He saw Mica's figure raise only a fraction of an inch off the ground before he touched the portal and paused the image. He tapped it once more and the story played at normal speed. He watched as Mica dried and dressed himself, averting his eyes when the man was exposed. It had been a while since he had last visited Metropolis. It had been an excellent film, but he had always wondered what had happened after the events of the movie. The use of his powers had gotten him in to trouble before, but decided it was worth it to use them, just to see the aftermath of the ziggurat's end. Safe to say it was very disappointing. Kenichi was killed by reconstruction workers after one month of searching for Tima's remains. His detective uncle drank himself into a stupor after word of his nephew's death. So every interesting character had died mentally or physically. It wasn't very interesting after that. Of course things had gotten very interesting when he tried to leave Metropolis to go back home. The Guardian had stopped him from traversing his way back to his Earth. They had an assignment for him. One he was still in the middle of working with right now and that possibly saved Metropolis and even the entire space time continuum.

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Gran had been very generous to him. The deep blue pajamas she had given him fit him like a soft, velvet glove. She had also fed him some soup which, while it didn't taste all to good, managed to clean out his stomach of the 'foreign' particles that had made him ill in the first place. He almost suspected the soup of being made of bleach because of how quickly it killed the organisms in him. He was thankful for Gran. She had been the nicest person to him after the explosion. She had taken him in as her own when he showed up on her tent's equivalent for a porch. He had needed the shelter since his apartment had collapsed. He provided his own food and clothing and helped her around the shop to pay for his rent and for his other needs (i.e. weapons). The two had developed a kind of kinship. She was very grandmotherly towards him and he always protected her. It made him feel like he had a family again.

"Are you feeling better?" Gran asked as she walked into his room of the tent. He was lying in his hammock, reading a book that had been placed in the room by Gran.

"Much. I think your soup did it. What was in it anyway?" He questioned back. She shrugged.

"Oh, just a few things I picked up from the veggie vendor." She replied. "I'm just glad to have you here. If you had died, I would have missed the company! I would die of boredom." She state calmly. He nodded. Another though came to his head.

"Hey Gran, do you know anyone that's into philosophy? I have this question I need to ask someone who knows about 'dimensions'." Mica said, waving his hands in the air to emphasize the word 'dimensions'. Gran looked up to the ceiling and scratched her wrinkly chin. She brought her head back down and looked at him.

"I think Namid might know something about that kind of subject. He's versed in theologies and philosophies if I remember correctly. Go to him if you want to ask questions." She said, turning around and walking out the door. "Now you shouldn't go out because you're probably still sick from the fever. But if I know you, and I do, you're going to disobey my orders and go anyway. In which case, I have your clothes folded on the chair in the corner. Just promise me you'll be careful." She asked, pointing out exactly what Mica was planning on doing. He just gave her a goofy smile and nodded thanks to her.

"Am I really that easy to see through? Well, I promise I'll be careful!" He said, puffing out his chest and saluting for comedic effect. She just laughed and walked out of the room. He rolled off the hammock and walked to the chair. He swiftly put on his clothes and holstered his weapons. He took one final look at his room and jumped out the window.

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It only took him fifteen minutes to get to Namid's tent. The section of the bazaar he was in was only on the other side of the cavern from Gran's tent, an easy distance for him to cover. He was only a street away from the old man's tent. He walked silently towards the lit up tarp. The night had fallen quickly upon the city. A light rain fell into the cavern from the cracks in the ceiling above. Mica strolled up to Namid's tent and pushed its flap open. He stepped inside and shook off whatever water that had accumulated on his clothes. He looked at the inside of the tent. It was floor to roof junk, every gadget of every possible design lining the piles that covered the majority of the floor. He looked towards a flap in the back of the ten and screamed Namid's name.

"Oy! Namid! You here?" Mica asked.

"EH! CAN'T YE READ THE SIGNS? WE'RE CLOSED!" A booming voice yelled from the back room. Mica only smiled. He knew Namid, mostly from reputation. He was a big bear of a man. Many people compared him to a Black Bear with the heart of a Teddy-bear. Mica felt the footsteps even before he heard them. Loud thuds echoed through the room as the man himself came into view. He seemed very groggy, like he had been up all day and night.

"Sorry, Namid, I just heard you were the kind of person to talk to about philosophy." Mica said, trying not to wake the Black Bear in the older man.

"You don't say." The man said, scratching his chin. "And yer botherin me with this at this time why?" he asked accusingly.

"It's an important personal issue that you might be able to shed some light on." Mica replied.

"Ey, and who's personal matter am I dealing with?" Namid asked. Mica took it as a question of identity.

"My name is Mica Echo. I'm sure you've met Gran down in the recreation bazaar. You know, the one that sells clothes?" He responded. Namid gave a satisfied huff. He walked over to Mica, examining him from top to bottom.

"So yer the one who she's been bragging about! Scrawny aint ya!" He joked. Mica just smiled and pulled his arms from under his cloak, revealing their steel exterior.

"Trust me, that isn't a problem." Mica said smirking.

"Well, how 'bout that? Yer one of dose cyborg things? I didn't even know that dey could do that to humans yet!" Namid said, deeply interested in the robotic limbs. Mica just looked at the ground, his smirk dropped.

"They can't." Mica said. He moved over to a pile of what looked like junked stuffed animals. He sat on it, using it as one of the only available seats in the room. Namid just stood there, confused by what Mica had just said.

"If ye didn't get those from surgeons then who and how?" Namid asked, his curiosity peaking.

"That, my friend, is a very long story." Mica said as he crossed his arms.

"Well, ye woke me up in the middle of the night. I've got time." He said apparently very interested in Mica's story.

"Fine then, I'll tell you." Mica responded. And so he did. He told Namid everything about the Analyst, the explosion and his family. All throughout the conversation Mica doubted whether he should be telling the man his story or not. He slowly came around to just speaking freely about the events surrounding his arms.

"So that's yer story, eh? An interestin one, to be honest. You say this Analyst guy can break dimensions er somethin like that?" Namid asked.

"Yeah, but he also told me something rather perplexing. He said something about us being 'Dimensional Twins'. That was the main reason I came here. Do you know anything about that?" Mica responded, feeling quite awkward asking the question.

"I do remember hearing somethin 'bout that from me days at the university. Before the explosion of course." Namid explained. "There's a theory out there that there is a dimension for every possibility there is, there by being an infinite amount of dimensions. It is said in each dimension there is copy of someone from your own dimension. Provided your alive in the alternate dimension. This double of your could be any shape, size, color, nationality, or have any abilities, but you always shared the same DNA. Most people thought it was a bunch of crock, but your friend their sure proved them wrong."

"So, he's me?" Mica asked, trying his hardest to follow Namid's rant.

"In the simplest wording, yes, he is you and you are him. You're the same person." Namid said.

"Jeez, that's just a little more than impacting." Mica said. His head began to spin with thoughts about the possibilities of who the Analyst was. What world did he come from, how much did he know, why was he doing what he was? It all made Mica's brain work harder than it needed to. He tried his best to quiet his mind, but nothing seemed to work. He decided he needed some rest, just to think this new information over. "Thank you Namid, I wish I could return the favor."

"Don't worry about that. I'm sure I'll find something for ye ta do around the shop." The man said, holding his hand in the air to gesture away Mica's apology. "I just want to give you good luck. I ye have any more questions, feel free to ask. Of course at the appropriate time of day. It's about five in the morning!" He said with a laugh. Mica chuckled. He walked to the door and thanked Namid for his courtesy before strolling out of the tent and into the night.

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Ah, another Chapter finished! I hope my viewers out there enjoyed! I know this is a plot-lacking, excitment-less chapter, but it fills in a few holes and it introduces some important ideas I wanted to put in. Well, TTFN! Gear001 Out!


	5. Heroes Aren't Alone

Okay, this is a quicky. I've been really busy getting productive stuff done, so I havent been writing. To TP, author of HEROES RISING, put up the Efing chapter! Its fine, and the grammer isn't an issue! Besides that, enjoy my really short chapter!

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Heroes Aren't Alone

Gran looked to the sky. Mica had been gone longer than usual. She began to worry about him. He had told her everything about the ordeal at the complex. She feared he had been sick even before he had landed in the polluted water. He described human activity in the robot compound, but according to her black market information, the only humans spotted near there had been the two kids everyone was talking about. If he had seen humans there they were a delusion. Mica was sick, and she wanted to help. She just couldn't think of what the problem could be.

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Namid rolled in his bed. Questions racked his mind, keeping him from a comfy slumber. That man who had talked to him, Mica, had baffled his mind. The dimension theory is real? Two of the same people from different worlds? The thoughts plagued him, that and the kids. Who were they anyway? Why come to him? Why trust him? It seemed that everything was begging to center around him, and to him that wasn't very good.

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He felt hollow. No, he felt worse than hollow, he felt dead inside. His emotions were intact, but he couldn't feel. He had no eyes but he could see. Everything about him now was false; everything he had worked toward was a lie. And now those rats will pay. They'll all pay for what they did. He lifted the radio and put it to his lips.

"Echo, Echo, are you there Echo?"

"Mica here, what do you need boss?" The radio spurt back.

"Have you found the two yet?" He asked.

"Not yet." It replied.

"Well find them soon, I don't have much time." He turned off the radio, and began to think.

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He stood there in the rain. It felt cleansing. He wanted to run, but he knew he couldn't. This confrontation had to happen. It needed to. The visor flashed over his eye. The radar alerted him to the presence of the one person who he had not been looking forward to seeing. The air shifted around him. The ally was a nice little cove away from the frenetic city, and it was secluded enough for a private talk. Cracks began to form where there was no glass, the edges outlined by a blue light. Reality fluxed and the pieces began to fall, disappearing silently into the asphalt. A lone figure stepped through, draped in a long black rain coat. The hood was raised to cover the face of the man.

"You've really fucked up, you know." The man said, his voice resonating in the corridor.

"We haven't spoken in a year and that's all you have to say to me?" The Analyst questioned back. The man walked forward, lifting his right fist. With a swift throw the man decked The Analyst across the cheek. The Analyst tripped backward and slipped on the rainwater. He landed with his hind in a gutter. He looked up at the man in black. "You don't understand what I'm doing! The Guardians-!"

"I don't give a damn about the Guardians! They've done nothing to prevent you from cavorting around in time and screwing with reality."

"Because I'm doing what they told me to!"

"Have you ever stopped to consider they might not be the 'good guys'?"

"Listen, Phaze, what I'm doing is _saving_ reality, not damning it!"

"No, you listen! Unless you stop this meddling, I'm going to be forced to kill you!" Phaze said, slowly walking past the now crouched Analyst. The Analyst reached up and grasped Phaze's arm.

"Patrick, please, at least hear me out!" Patrick looked at the Analyst and frowned.

"Mike, ever since you scanned my power you've been nothing but trouble. I'm going to reverse my mistake." Patrick said, opening another portal and leaping through.

"NO!" Mike said, as he leaped in after his once beloved friend.

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Yay! Exposition! Who is the man in the over coat? Why does he have to kill The Analyst? Obviously you though The Analyst was a Top Dog in this affair, but he isnt. Stay tuned for the next chapter! And visit my videos: h t t p : / / g e a r 0 0 1 . b l i p . t v /


	6. Heroes Live by Instinct

Ahhh.... back to the site! Its been a while. Things have been busy, with the major snowfall, my German student coming to America in a few weeks, School, and lets not forget filming. I managed to type up a pretty good chapter. Its more mentally exciting than actiony exciting. Enjoy the intrigue!

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Heroes Live by Instinct

I'm back in the city streets. It's night. Snow fell from the omnipresent sky. A cool chill blows by. It's winter in the big city. Very few buildings had lights on, only a few lit specks in the mammoth city of skyscrapers. No one was around, it was only me. Then she appeared in front of me. Raven hair covered her head and descended onto her back. I had always thought she had blonde hair, but her face was the same; soft, smiling, warm and inviting. I walked to her, my boots making attenuated prints in the snow. A beat of quiet crunching sounds filled the air as I walked towards her. The space between us closed. I smiled, she smiled, peace emanated from both of us. I hugged her, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"I thought that you… Danni, I missed you." I cried happily, feeling hot emotions being released from within.

"Don't worry, I'm here, I'm here…" She said. I kept smiling, but something told me to stop hugging her. Maybe it was her body language, like how she hadn't returned the hug. Or maybe it was the fact that her voice had steadily been deepening through her breaths. I stumbled backwards.

"What? Where's… Where's Danni?" I cried. The beauty in front of me evaporated, her skin unraveling like twine, a robotic skeleton could be seen underneath. It began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh…

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Mica shot up from his horizontal position. An uncomfortably fuzzy blanket lay over him as cold night air pierced his cheeks. The crimson locks that grew on his head were dipped in sweat near the base and frayed along his forehead. He gulped deep breaths of air from the space around him, as though he had been submerged far under the sea. And knowing his more recent nightmares, he could have been, in a sense. Blood filled the veins in his cheeks, reddening them to an almost salmon, closely resembling the hair stuck to his face. His head began to ring again, sharp tings echoing inside his skull and surrounding his mind.

"Damn it!" He cried as he brought his hands to his face in a superficial act of mental relief. His metallic fingers twitched in pain as they grasped at his temples. The sharp metal of his fingertips cut lightly into his skin, enough to draw blood and leave small scars. Footsteps floated through the tent that had become his home. Gran came through the door, a pail of water and a sponge in hand.

"Mica, shush, while its not top secret, it would be nice to keep it a secret that you're staying here. These people aren't nice to mercenaries." Gran said, plotting the soaked sponge over Mica's forehead. He pushed her hand away.

"Save the water for yourself." He said generously, feigning a smile as he did so. "It was just another nightmare. They're more and more confusing." Gran looked at him softly.

"A wise man once told me that 'Dreams are the gates to prophecies'. Knowing what happened to you may prove this little proverb true." She whispered in a comforting tone. She placed the sponge in the bucket and stood up from Mica's bedside. She paced slowly to the door and turned. "Then again, another wise man also said 'Man standing on toilet is definitely high on pot', so I'm not sure we can trust those bastards." She said humorously. Mica chuckled. The joke was one of her favorites when giving advice, old as it was. It always made Mica smile. Sadly the smile faded much too quickly for his taste.

"I'm leaving Metropolis." Mica stated, leaving no room for contradiction. Gran turned in an intrigued surprise.

"Why?" She inquired.

"I feel like the answers are here, but I can't get to them quite yet." Mica tried to explain. "I think that there's some sort of… I don't know… a key? A key that will help me get to the answers somewhere out in the world." Mica said, confusing Gran and deepening his own puzzlement.

Gran spoke softly. "I think I understand. Go. Do what you must. But just be careful. If I lose you for good it could ruin my business." Mica grinned once more.

"Then how did you get by before even knowing me?" He asked jokingly. She just smiled and stepped out of the room, shaking her head in amusement. He leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, his joyous mood fading away in the wake of serious thought.

_I need to get out of here._ He thought to himself. _Too many memories… Too much hatred… Too much blood. I need freedom from this frickin maze._ _But where to first?_ He had always asked himself things like that, even before the Ziggurat incident. If he didn't live in Metropolis, then where? _Tokyo isn't too far… guess I'll start there…_ He thought silently. He stood from the bed and looked in the room's wide mirror. His hair was twisted and mangled into several directions. _That's going to be painful to get out…_ He looked off to his right to a small table he used as a nightstand. A pair of scissors glinted in dark void of the room. _Unless…_

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Mica emerged from the room some time later. The hair on his head had been tamed by the skilled use of household scissors, a talent Mica had picked up from Gran. The facial hair that had grown on his chin over night was neatly combed into an orange-blond goatee. His usual attire disguised the majority of his body, all except a small portion where he carried his duffle bag near his hip. He strode out and into the main section of the tent, where clothes were on display. Gran had fallen asleep a few hours before, allowing him freedom from giving an awkward goodbye. As he stepped into the sleeping streets a cold light enveloped him. The moon sent beams in and out between the ragged ceiling surrounding the market. A dull grey was edging at the horizon. Dawn was approaching.

He calmly strode to the east gate of the market. Surprisingly, they had repaired the chain-link barrier since his last excursion from that gate. The guards on duty were asleep.

_Way to do your job, dumbasses._ Mica thought to himself. In one deft motion he leapt over the using the links as hand holds. He landed nimbly on the other side, straightened up from his fall, and continued on his way. He was near the edge of the city, where the only intact part of the town lay. It also had the only working air field within a fifty mile radius.

He came nearer, making good time, as the grey in the sky had barely moved, and the moon was still the only source of illumination. It was at this point he felt a presence following him.

"It's been a long time. What? Like three years now?" Mica asked to the shadows. The very shadows seemed to sulk away to reveal a male of twenty, give or take a few years depending on the angle. Brown hair, a beret, and a vest adorned the young man. "Atlas, how you been?"

"Just fine Mica, and you?" The figure responded in a sarcastic tone. Mica felt an uncomfortable air around his former friend. "So I hear you're leaving."

"Is that so? I wonder how you heard, since I've only told one person." Mica retorted. Atlas seemed a cautious and on guard. Mica mentally tensed, readying for a verbal, or even physical, battle.

"I've been watching you. You seem to get around a lot these days. I only figured that you were heading to the airport to leave." Atlas explained.

"You were spying on me?" Mica yelled, anger mounting in his veins.

"Yes, I had my men follow you." Atlas continued. "And an interesting thing keeps occurring. Every time my spies got a good look of you, you always had your arms under that cloak, like you do now."

"So? I'm just a little chilly." Atlas just smiled.

"I've seen you personally in extremely high temperatures with that cloak on. You're not cold, you're hiding something." Atlas theorized.

"Wait! Back it up a bit. Why were you following me? Am I really a person of interest to you and your little rebellion?" Mica inquired.

"I have my reasons." The man remained skeptical and began to walk in circles around Mica. "Now I am still wondering what is so important that you've kept it hidden this long. Could it be the mystical mystery weapon that killed all of those guards?" Atlas asked, grabbing at the cloak only to have Mica hold it still from beneath. Atlas became angered. "Pull off the fucking cloak!"

"No." Mica stated. Atlas hurled himself at Mica in a desperate attempt to un-shroud Mica's secret. An attempt that paid off. Mica stumbled back, his cloak flailing open and revealing the gleaming metal surface of his arms. In a swift motion, Mica brought his arm up and shoved Atlas fifteen feet in the opposite direction. But the damage had already been done.

"You're a…! What the hell is wrong with you?" Atlas shrieked. The rebel leader stepped back several times and leaned himself against a wall in fear. "So this is what he meant." That last comment sparked Mica's attention.

"Who? Who told you about this?" Mica yelled, covering himself up in the cloak once more. Atlas merely looked at Mica in shock. "Who!?" Mica screamed once more.

"I don't know! He was in shadow; I couldn't tell who he was. He told me to watch you closely, see if there was anything strange about you. Now I know why! You're a fucking machine! You're a bastard of nature!" Atlas panicked out.

"I'm not a robot! I'm human Goddamn it!" Mica yelled back. It had turned in to a scream fest.

"No, you're kind is responsible for…. for… all of this!" He said motioning to the disjointed scrap that surrounded the landscape.

"No I'm not! I wasn't even there when it happened!" Mica cried.

"You're the reason! You're the reason she's dead! You're the reason Kimi is dead!" Atlas screamed, tears leaking from his eyes.

"Who?" Mica asked in exhaustion.

"Kimi, my girlfriend." Atlas said, falling to his knees onto the cold ground. The tears came in cascades now. "The Ziggurat killed her. She wouldn't have even been near the city if she hadn't been part of the revolt. And that entire revolt was caused by the robots! And you're one of them!"

"GODDAMN IT! I AM NOT A ROBOT!" Mica yelled, regaining his motivation. "And I didn't kill anyone. You're more to blame than I am since you were probably the one to bring her into the revolt!"

"DON'T TALK LIKE YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE! I LOVED HER! YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE!" Atlas yelled as loud as he could.

"SHUT UP!" Mica yelled as soon as Atlas finished the thought. "Don't think you're the only person to lose someone! I lost my entire fucking family! My wife, my kids, my unborn child! All of them dead! So don't go say that I don't know how you feel!" Mica finished. Atlas literally paused mid-reaction, the thoughts of what Mica told him beginning to sober his mind. "I'm sorry for your girlfriend. I really am, but now's not the time to talk about it. I have a plane to catch."

"Wait!" Atlas called, a more civilized tone replacing the anger. The rebellion leader spoke softly. "Be careful. In Metropolis now you know not to trust the man next to you. You know that they'll only use you. Out there, in the world, things have changed. The economy has been in flux since the Ziggurat, people on the outside have changed. You know there are people you can trust, but you can't be sure who. The reports say that the world is in even more chaos than Metropolis."

Mica took this to heart. "Thanks." He began to walk on to the airport.

"Just one more question. Why were you following Kenichi and Tima?" Atlas asked. "I saw you chasing after them through the market."

Mica paused mid-step. He looked over his shoulder to Atlas. "I have my reasons."

* * *

Next chapter may take a while, since I still need to write an outline. That, and I have filming and homework. Ahh well. R&R =] ! Gear001 Out!


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